


Resting Easy

by Beeholder



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Bittersweet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beeholder/pseuds/Beeholder
Summary: Hit returns back from working on a slew of contracts and finds a moment to relax in one of his safe houses. Feeling its high time to take a little vacation, he takes the rest of the night off as he finds himself thinking on the past and the future.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Resting Easy

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be done by Jan 10 (Hit Day), but unfortunately a lot of things came up and I only recently was able to finish it. Had a lot of fun writing this one! I hope y'all enjoy it too!
> 
> Please check out a good mate of mine on Twitter (https://twitter.com/ActualBikeDad), a fantastic and incredible artist, who helps me tremendously with editing and ideas! It also designed the outfit (and many others you'll hopefully see in other works!) that Hit wore!

The sun was just beginning to dip below the skyline, dusky pinks and oranges highlighting the tops of buildings and mixing in with the rainbow of neon lights and signs lining the streets. For a few moments, the town was positively glowing, basking in the satisfaction of a day’s hard work and the temptations that the night had to offer. Staring from the entryway to his small apartment, out a large window, Hit gazed at it, breathing out a deep sigh. For once, the city hardly looked to be the veritable hive of crime and despair that he had seen it become. It was nice to see it far above the grimy streets. The door hissed close behind him and he could hear the bolts slide into place. Grunting, he kicked off his boots, stretching and working the kinks out of his shoulders and neck. Finally… A moment to relax. Walking into the apartment, he eased himself into an armchair, watching as brightly colored cars and other vehicles zipped through the air. Their lights blurred into thin ribbons, curling around buildings and towers, lines twisting around each other and melding with all the other lights. It was an utter cacophony of noise, sights, smells, but the distant gentle hum of engines was the only thing that reached inside the room. Leaning back in the chair, he breathed in the peaceful quiet. There was finally a lull in his contracts, and he was going to unabashedly spend his time off lounging about for as long as he could get away with. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually took some time off to do something he wanted. Sitting there, he tried to recall the last instance when he did. Had… Had he ever taken a vacation? It was so hard to tell… Being alive for as long as he has, it was difficult to recall any specific time. Hours, days, years, all blurred together. All he could remember was work and more work, with some other bits sprinkled in. Stifling a grimace, Hit snapped the bottom part to his coat from his armor, tossing it onto a small side table. It was time for a well-earned, relaxing rest.

Emboldened by these thoughts, Hit slipped out of his chest plate and, grabbing it and the skirt to his coat, tossed them into a closet. Much more comfortable. Granted as he did so, a wave of acrid, stale scent of sweat rolled off of his body, almost gagging him. It was a wonder why anyone didn’t smell him coming first. He’d have to remember to wash clothes while he was here. Pushing his way into a small bedroom, he rifled through the drawers. Hmmm… He hadn’t been here in a while, did he even have any extra clothes here? If push came to shove, he could make do or go out and buy something. But at this point, he would rather stay in and get cozy. Opening the last drawer, Hit blew out a sigh of relief. Thankfully he left some items here for himself. Fishing around, his eye caught the glimpse of a splash of bright coral. He dug it out, holding it out in the dim light. It was a long full skirt, colored in a dark purple and slowly fading into a bright coral pink on the edges. Wow… He thought he had lost this somewhere. It had been years since he last saw this. Did it still fit? Probably, it's not like he had changed much in the past years. Holding it against him, he could feel the edges of the skirt flutter against his calves as he moved slightly. He smiled as he tucked it under his arm. This would be a nice change of pace from his usual armor and far more comfortable. Rummage around some more, he came up with a cropped, baggy dark blue shirt. Perfect. It had been a long time since he wore something comfortable and relaxed. Actually, it had been a long time since he did anything for himself. Not as long as taking actual time off, but he never really had the time or the urge to go out of his way to do something for himself. Though now that he had the chance… What was he going to do with it?

Thinking about that some more, he stepped into the bathroom and immediately, he had some ideas. He forgot this place had a spacious bath. A tiled shower sat in a small alcove off to the left and there was a low sink, but what caught his eye was a large tub basin. A nice, long hot soak sounded heavenly right now. He could feel his muscles beginning to ache after being tensed for so long… Tossing his things onto a sideboard, Hit slipped out of his clothes and strolled towards the shower. A good soak though would be better though if he were clean.

He took a quick shower and emerged fresh and clean, wrapping himself in a towel. Humming to himself, he set the tub to fill with steaming hot water and rummaged around the bathroom some more. There hadn’t been much in any of the cupboards, but he was pleasantly surprised to find a few small candles. He set them around the bathroom and letting the tip of his finger glow with the smallest bit of energy, brushed the tops of the charred wicks, setting them alight. Checking on the bath, Hit figured it would take a bit of time to fill. Plenty of time to make a cup of tea. Cinching the towel down around his waist, he wandered back out into the main room, though it wasn’t really necessary. The large window was engineered so that those outside couldn’t look in, so if it were his nature, he could walk around without anything. If it was.

Making himself a hot cup of tea, he watched the city a bit more. The sun had fully set, allowing the bright neon signs to light up the world in its place. People wandering street markets, bars and clubs, and the brave souls just out for a walk, all guided by the blazing, piercing glow of the midnight sun. And even more lurked in its shadow. Hidden away in the depths of the city were all sorts of demons, those that preyed upon others. It didn’t matter if they skulked in alleys or preened themselves atop of towering shining pedestals, the only thing that denoted them from everyone else was their insatiable hunger. He should know, he was one of them. That dragged a sigh out of him. Not a peaceful or virtuous way of living, but that was the life he chose and there was no going back. And if he was going to be honest with himself… He enjoyed it. Somewhat. When he first started out as a hitman, every contract was new, thrilling and harrowing. Each close encounter made his heart race. He loved the danger, the adventure of it all. It was that sensation, that high that lured him in. But… Then he made a mistake. The Time Skip.

He had discovered it quite accidentally, jumping forward a fraction of a second to avoid what would have been a fatal shot from a rifle. Younger him had been delighted to have stumbled into such a useful technique, and diligently trained to use and improve it. He remembered when he first managed to skip forward a whole second, so proud of his own accomplishments, finally overcoming his limits to achieve the impossible. But bit by bit, he realized that it was a double-edged sword, and for every second he stole, it stole something back. The time he skipped was time he literally skipped, that his body didn’t have to experience. The cells in his body didn’t age, nothing was subjected to the ravages of time. Eventually, the effect slowly began to compound, where a second skipped was an hour more of his life, then two, slowly adding time to his lifespan.

At first, he had been delighted by this. As long as he didn’t die while working or from anything else, he couldn’t die of old age. He could become a force that this universe had never seen before. But he was naive. By the time he had hit one hundred years, he began to really understand what he had cursed himself with. At 127 years old, he had seen and visited every inch of the universe. Not only eleven years later had he accomplished this for the second time, visiting each place at least twice. Every contract felt the same, the same kind of people wanting the same kind of people dead, offering the same reward. He had grown strong enough that eventually nothing provided a challenge. Instead, he started to impose restrictions on himself to at least make it interesting. But that became boring after a while too. All the thrill, the peril, the adventure, everything that made him feel so alive… withered away. And so did everything else. What friends and family he did have, he outlived them, watching them grow old, envying the simplicity of their lives. Eventually, there was nothing left to live for, nothing left mattered. With nothing left, he quickly found himself spiraling out of control, slipping into a deep darkness. It took years of writhing around in that darkness, weighed down by apathy and self-loathing, before he managed to at least give himself a sense of purpose, a reason to go on. If he couldn’t live for himself, then the least he could do was give what he had to those who could. He built up a colossal fortune from contracts, but money meant nothing to him now. Only taking what he needed to keep operations running smoothly, he gave the rest away. He only took contracts that interested him or might have some merit to them. While some of them included eliminating elites of the vast criminal underground, his work included more than just assassination contracts. He picked up a few odd jobs, sometimes transporting goods between planets or acting as a bodyguard, mostly to add variety and to dull the pain of his less savory jobs. He made sure that no one could identify him, not that he was overly worried. ‘Hit the Assassin’ was more of a legend at this point, most thought he was long dead by now. 

Sighing, he was momentarily distracted as the kettle began to whistle. A ghost… An apt description for him. He shook his head. No… Tonight wasn’t the night for those sorts of thoughts. Pouring himself a steaming cup of tea, he marched himself back into the bathroom, forcing himself to think of something different as he shut off the water to the bath. Something different… Suddenly his mind drifted back to the Tournament. That dragged a groan out of him. Hardly any more pleasant than his current line of thought. But… maybe it wasn’t that bad… It had been a long time since his heavy stone heart felt a pulse race through it. His fights with Goku had equally intrigued and excited him, the challenge awakening something he thought long dead. His battle with Jiren had equally been invigorating, though for entirely different reasons.

It was the first time in a long time he had been utterly and overwhelmingly defeated. He had no chance, there was nothing he could have done to change the outcome of that struggle. And he liked that as strange as it was. It was humbling, but empowering. Jiren, as well as Goku and a number of other contenders, even some from his own universe, fought at a level that took him by surprise. That there were warriors so much stronger, more capable than him… They had a fire burning within them. A spark, a burning desire to live. Standing next to them, he could feel their heat seep into him and he relished that feeling. He wanted to meet them head on again, to let them know that while they had won the battle, he wasn’t someone they could turn their back on. Tossing the towel aside, he smiled to himself. Even though they were universes apart, he’d have to find some way to get his rematch with both Jiren and Goku. But that would have to wait. He wasn’t nearly ready for them.

Easing into the warm water, Hit let out a contented sigh. This… This was nice. He could feel his body unclenching, his muscles relaxing, propping his legs onto the rim of the tub. Drawing a finger through the water, he practically purred the slight sound of water trickling through his fingers, echoing off the walls. Too bad he didn’t have some scented salts or something, it really would have completed it. But as it were, it was better than he could have hoped for. The dimmed lights, the room only highlighted by a few candles he had lying around... Their warm, golden flickering light cast long, dancing shadows along the walls and as he watched them, Hit could feel his mind drifting away. Picking up his mug, he took a deep drink from it. Time ticked by slowly, Hit dozing off, occasionally lazily stirring the water with his hand. It was a wonder why he didn’t do this more often.

He opened an eye, staring into the steady flame from a candle. It swayed slightly with the low breeze from ventilation, casting shadows that danced along the wall. Jiren flashed back in his mind, bathed in a fiery red aura. Propping an elbow on the side of the tub, he let out a deep sigh, the moment of quiet stillness in his mind gone. Jiren was intriguing… Their fight replayed in his thoughts, blow for blow. He had never met someone with such unfathomable strength. With each strike, he could see the grey warrior’s cold eyes, completely detached from their battle. His abilities had completely underwhelmed him. Even after throwing everything he had at him did absolutely nothing to him, and that only made his blood run hot and his heart beat faster. A real challenge. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and smiled. He wondered if he could goad him into another fight. He’d have to train if he were going to stand a remote of a chance. Train… He hadn’t honed his body or techniques in years, there had been no need to. And it showed during his fights with Goku and Jiren. He’d have to come up with a different plan of attack though. His assassination techniques sorely limited his abilities and his Time Skip was useless against them. He could possibly find ways to improve the ability he used on Jiren to trap him, but… He liked the idea of finding something new, of distancing himself from the past.

Hit laid there a bit longer, letting the water fall through his fingers and sleepily musing on his new experiences and the people that had managed to wriggle into his life. What strange people… But he’d be lying if they hadn’t sparked his curiosity. Eventually, the water turned cold and he had to drag himself out of the bath. Drying off, he got dressed, slipping the skirt over his hips. He stood there a moment, swaying slightly so that the hem of the skirt swished around him. Turning sharply, the colorful hem caught air, swirling above his knees. It really had been a while since the last time he wore this, he was glad that it still fit. What other little treasures had he squirreled away here…? Being alive for so long, he had obviously bought a lot of clothes over his lifetime, all from different eras and cultures. But unfortunately, time and memories often melded together, and it was difficult to tell sometimes when he might have done something. Tomorrow he’d have to sift through the clothes he had here. It would be nice to remember some of the better things from the past.

Humming to himself, he made himself another cup of tea. Waiting for the water to boil, he busied himself checking his cupboards. It would be nice to stay in one place for a while and this little impromptu vacation was really growing on him. But if he was going to hide away here, he needed food. And big surprise, there was none, unless he wanted to count dust as part of a food group. Giving up a dejected sigh, he figured that he should have gotten something to eat before settling in for the night. But as it was, he’d just have to make do with tea until tomorrow. He ran his hand along the last shelf just in case and his fingers butted into something. Not particularly hopeful that it was anything still in date, he grabbed at it and inspected it. A small bag of hard fruit candies. Perfect! Hardly filling, but probably the only thing here still edible. And admittedly some of his favorites, a lovely mixture of tart and sweet.

He wandered around the apartment some more, curious what else he could find. Unfortunately, there was nothing else lying about that piqued his interest or fond memories. Other than the few touches he had found, the place was rather sterile. He wasn’t one to collect pictures or any other memorabilia. What was there to remember? What was there that he wanted to remember? Sighing, he made his back to the bedroom, perching himself on the edge of the bed. Well, what now? Slipping another candy into his mouth, he stretched himself out on the bed, propping a leg on his knee as he folded his arms behind his head. In the end, he really hadn’t left himself much. But it was always like that coming back to one of his safe houses. It was part of running to every part of the universe at any time. There was no real place he called ‘home’ and while that might seem lonely to some, it didn’t bother him. Moving about as he needed, not bound to one place made it convenient and easy to do his work. And easier to return to a safe place to sleep. If anything, the universe was his home. He had explored every inch of it, there wasn’t something to the universe that he did not know about, the only exception being the realm of the Gods. But every mortal bit was familiar. Sure, things grew to change over time, but it was always recognizable. Rolling on his side, he stared vacantly at a wall, grunting. So… Why was it that he felt… unsatisfied? While there was so much to see, it all felt empty. He wondered what it was like to have a ‘home’, a place where he could always feel welcomed, warm and cozy. A place to make memories… 

Memories... He honestly didn’t have a lot of pleasant ones. What was there to make memories of? To make a home of? He was an assassin, not the kind of person that made a nest to call their own. Yet… For the first time, he felt the emptiness of the apartment, realizing just how quiet it really was. Hit felt a chill pass over him and with some fumbling, drew a blanket over him. He hadn’t realized it, but he had become somewhat used to the others. The three little saiyans, full of boundless energy and enthusiasm. Saonel and Pirina, the two steadfast namekians, calming and encouraging the others. Botamo comforting Magetta, always ready to reassure and stand by it. There was Goku’s cheerful light-heartedness, always ready for a fight, always ready to live with everything he had. They had their fair share of trials and sacrifices, but he could see from the smiles they all had, they had good memories, things they thought fondly of. They had a life they really wanted to live, filled with things they love and bring them joy. Eyes sliding close, he wondered if he could ever have a life like that. He guessed he didn’t see why not… Making happy memories of his own… Drifting asleep, he felt himself smile. It would be nice…to have something good to remember for a change.


End file.
